


A pleasing sight

by Nen (Nenchen)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And Aziraphale has more eyes than a human mind can comprehend, Aziraphale Has Many Eyes (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Tease (Good Omens), Banter, Check-Ins, Clothing, Communication, Consent, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley wants to be watched very intently, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, Explicit Consent, Eyes, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Gentle Kissing, Gratuitous Smut, Hugs, Humor, I hope thats all the tags I need, I mean there is a kiss overwhelmed by love and at the end of it two people are overwhelmed, I tried my best, If you know the exact name for THAT kink please tell me, Kissing, Leaded Masturbation, Lube, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in clothing, Miraculous Clean-up, Multiple Orgasms, Naked Cuddling, Neck Kissing, Nipples, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Penetration, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Puns & Word Play, Sex, Sexual Humor, Shameless Smut, Sharing Feelings, Silk Pants, Smut, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Softness, Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), Undressing, Watching, Weird Biology, Weird anatomy, Wings, With a kiss, hair petting, instructions, miracle lube, noone is drunk during the sex but you know triggers, only at the start, scopophilia, so that works out nicely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27608192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenchen/pseuds/Nen
Summary: “Fuck, angel.”“Is that an affirmation, or simply a statement of what you want me to do to you?” the angel teased, impossibly fond of the way Crowley rolled his eyes.“Both, actually.”“Well then, don’t mind if I take you up on that. Or rather make you take me up on that,” Aziraphale said, delighting in the small laugh, disguised as a huff of impatience.Aziraphale has many, many, many eyes. The only match for them is Crowley’s exhibitionism kink. But, as things tend to happen around them, original plans get derailed in favour of banter, soft things and new plans that prove to be much better.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 62





	A pleasing sight

**Author's Note:**

> You guys wouldn't believe how long this took me. I didn't know it would go into all these directions, but they did. I wanted to involve a mirror so maybe I'll write that in part 2 sometime. Many thanks to the Ace Omens people who supported this story and will be sure to jail me for its softness soon.

  


It all started, as had many things over the years, with some drunken rambling. When Crowley was drunk and rambling, things tended to just come out of his mouth, whether he wanted them to or not. And, as the very accurate (but not necessarily nice) descriptor “drunken rambling” implies, they also usually came out in a way that was not always entirely cohesive. But who needed proper wording, or grammar or sentence structure anyway? Surely not two immortal beings that had known each other for over 6000 years and were very much practised in not saying what they meant and still understanding the important bits for most of it.

Still, even with all of this advantage, it was for the best that they had been in a relationship for quite a while now, or Aziraphale probably wouldn’t have interpreted the following exchange correctly. 

“Eyes. You have them.”

Or thought to ask the right questions himself. It truly was a good thing he was now quite practised in voicing his questions too.

“Your point?”

Crowley turned his head at an angle that would have been extremely painful for the human he embodied, but for him probably popped his vertebrae in a nice way. He had enough of them to justify frequent popping too. He stared at Aziraphale’s face for a long while, which wasn’t unusual, drunk or not, before he spoke up again.

“They’re nice. Very… watchful. Could probably see anything with those eyes.”

His own eyes meanwhile seemed very intent on not meeting Aziraphale’s anymore, instead flitting over the space around him, the space where, if manifested, his wings would be. His face was slightly red, probably from the copious amounts of red they had partaken in this evening. Or maybe from something else.

“You have very beautiful eyes too, my dear,” Aziraphale answered, missing the point Crowley had tried to make by a mile in just about every perceivable direction (he could perceive about ∞), proving effortlessly and frustratingly that he for sure did not see everything, or at least didn’t always know what to make of it.

Crowley however did not mind much, because instead of immediate non-verbal understanding he got the angel’s lips on his. He could try again another evening after enough liquid courage.

The next day however, after they’d banished the hangover, had a nice breakfast, a nice walk, a nice lunch and some nice, quality cuddle time in their bed with entirely too many throw pillows,[1] he was blind-sided by Aziraphale suddenly asking him something that made him clutch one of those very pillows to his chest.[2]

“So, my dear, would you care to elaborate what exactly it is about my eyes that arouses you?”

“Wha-ack,” Crowley answered elaborately.

Aziraphale just sat, all prim and proper, looking at him with those (two) blessed eyes tinged with amusement carrying over from his smug smile. When Crowley didn’t answer immediately, his expression turned into something more fond.

“You know you do not have to tell me, but I also feel obligated to remind you that none of your desires will be held against you. And that my feelings for you would never change because of something like a sexual fantasy. I honestly doubt anything could.”

Crowley let out a breath of air he hadn’t realized he was holding and relaxed marginally. As much as a body that had been fuelled mostly by anxiety, panic and spite for about 6000 years could relax without further help.

Still, this was embarrassing. He took a deep breath.

“It’s just. Just that.”

A singular raised eyebrow told him to get on with it.

“Just what?”

“Just that! You always. You just look at me, and you listen, and you take the slightest hints about what’s going on with me and then you puzzle them out. I – no one else has ever made me feel so _seen_ ,” he muttered.

He saw the realization in Aziraphale’s face and with it other emotions that combined into a very sappy expression. 

“Oh, my dear”, he murmured, cradling Crowley’s hot face against his soft chest and placing a kiss onto his hairline.

Well, that hadn’t been that bad. 

“However, this doesn’t exactly answer my question. What part about this is arousing to you, Crowley?”

Terrific, he had noticed the distraction manoeuvrer. Of course. 

“Ngk. Well. I found myself wondering.”

“About the eyes I have in my other form, correct?” the angel questioned almost innocently.

Crowley tilted his face to look up at him with a deadpan expression.

“You, angel, are entirely too perceptive.”

“And you are rather receptive to that, isn’t that right?” Aziraphale said as he met Crowley’s face in another kiss.

Crowley happily obliged to being kissed quite bone- and senseless, relaxing into the angel. Which, of course, had been the plan. With lowered guards there was no way for Crowley to put up any resistance to the look that Crowley openly called the “Please, dear” expression and silently called the “Revolutionary crêpe eyes”. And thus, upon receiving that look, Crowley finally spilled the tea.[3]

“Ok, you got me angel. I think it’s hot when you watch me. You just get that expression on your face, half adorably adoring and besottedly aroused and half well, downright possessive. And I really like when you look at me like that and tell me how you think I am wonderful and a marvel and all that jazz,” he said, tone as unaffected and nonchalant as he could manage.

“No talking yourself down, my love. You are a marvel, no matter if you are in the throes of passion or not. But you do look especially delectable when you are. And I wouldn’t mind seeing more of that at all.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“In fact, I think it is a brilliant idea and would love to indulge in this with you. Did you have something more detailed? Another presentation? Should I get the projector?”

“No big plan. I put myself into your capable hands, angel.”

Aziraphale answered with only a thoughtful hum and another kiss dropped onto the demon’s forehead. But behind his smile, his sharp mind was already forming a plan that should prove to be very satisfactory indeed.

\------

The topic didn’t come up again that evening. Or the next. Not until a week later, in fact. However, Aziraphale had already made some use of this newfound knowledge, using his corporate eyes to test certain theories on Crowley, with very positive results, and a lot of supporting evidence. 

This evening however was _the evening._ Aziraphale had informed Crowley about his plans during breakfast time, to give him time to think about it and, if he was being honest with himself, time to work himself up. Crowley was wonderful when he was brimming with anticipation. 

The base plan was simple with enough wiggle-room for some variation: Bedroom, two hearts, two bodies, and a few thousand eyes. Eyes watching Crowley, to be specific. They had both agreed on Aziraphale taking the lead this time, with the demon following his command.

They retired to the bedroom after dinner, Crowley eagerly climbing on their big, plush bed, turning to meet Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale however was still standing between the door and bed, and seemed not all that intent on moving.

“Angel, c’mere.” Crowley purred and reclined, moving his body into a position he knew Aziraphale loved.

“Oh, I am quite alright with standing over here for now, but thank you for the generous offer.”

Crowley drew in a breath, mouth opening to say something, immediately shutting again at the sight of Aziraphale’s singular raised finger.

“Oh, I don’t think you are in a position to protest, my dear. You have agreed on following my wishes this evening after all, didn’t you? Now, if you’d please get your torso nude, there’s a dear. Slowly.”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale who had miracled himself a stuffy chair to sit on. When he noticed Crowley still not moving, he prompted him again.

“Crowley.”

He said his name and opened his eyes. All of them. All over his body, no matter if they should be covered by clothes. His features seemed slightly distorted as eyes opened on his forehead, in his hairline, on his cheeks, down his chin. His beautiful white wings opened in this dimension, and the multitude of eyes on them, usually carefully hidden, opened too. On every feather’s tip and in between on the bigger ones, sat eyes. But that was not all. There were a few of them that couldn’t be brought into this dimension, but still, they opened, straining at the veil separating them from the rest. There was not one blind spot, nowhere without them.

And they were all looking at Crowley, a number of eyes his brain was unable to count properly in its momentary state. Even unable to see them all, he could feel them on him, pinning him down with the combined weight of their gazes in a way only the angel had ever managed to pin him down.

He could feel his heart beat faster, blood rushing to his face and other places. It was just as good as he had imagined – and they weren’t even doing anything yet. 

“I am watching.”

Oh, right, he was supposed to do something.

He could see the teasing glint in those eyes when he scrambled to sit upright and almost toppled off the bed. He quickly caught himself, deciding if the angel wanted a show, he would get one. After all, who was he to deny Aziraphale? So he donned his best promising grin and got to work on removing his clothing as sensual as possible.

Soon enough his torso was free enough to show the dark flush that had settled on his chest. When he had proposed this he hadn’t expected to be this affected by it. Every eye on him glazed over with lust and anticipation, the small noises Aziraphale made, the feeling of a thousand eyes watching, captivating, capturing. It set his nerves alight, the thrill of it thrumming through his veins. 

Trying to desperately play it cool for at least a little longer, he donned his best cocky grin.

“What can I do for you now, my angel?” he asked, putting on his best tempting voice.

Only to be completely ruined by the answer.

“If you’d please bring yourself off in your trousers, darling, that would be lovely.”

The angel knew this was a dirty trick. Not only in the literal sense, which Crowley couldn’t care less about, but for several reasons.

One – he knew what those times when they were so impatient for each other, neither of them able to get their bearings enough to move to a more comfortable location, or get out of their clothes did to Crowley.

Two – he was wearing silk trousers, and the angel knew exactly what that felt like. The hedonist had once spent an entire afternoon lazily rutting against Crowley’s arse, clad in these very trousers and reading poetry out loud while Crowley slowly lost his mind, muffling his screams into one of their throw pillows.[4]

Three - and possibly the dirtiest of them all – he knew how much he himself loved to see Crowley come undone without even loosing his clothing first. For someone who hated getting stains on his clothes he sure loved getting some on Crowley’s. And Crowley was weak to everything his angel loved.

Crowley groaned.

“Angel.”

\------

It was a statement meant less to communicate something specific, more something said instead of doing something. The angel knew what it meant regardless. He knew that tone of voice, that underlying rasping, low grumble. He knew what the slight parting of Crowley’s lips meant, the flush on his face, the half-lidded gaze. He had seen all of these things before and dutifully committed them to memory, a thousand studies of intimacy.

Now though, with all of his eyes open, it was there all the same, but there was so much more. Usually he couldn’t tear away from Crowley’s face for long, his expressions in pleasure captivating. But now he saw the quickening of his pulse, the slight constriction of his throat as he gulped. He saw the miniature movements of his fingers that suggested he rather wanted to clench them into the bedsheets, to hold onto something. He saw the ripple of muscles, the twitch of him in his trousers, even the curling of his toes. And he wondered how he hadn’t thought of doing this earlier. Seeing so much of Crowley, it felt like something precious, something to be treasured, protected, jealously kept from the world for all times. He was awash with a great wave of love.

When Crowley moved his hands to slowly stroke up and down his length, starting by just barely grazing himself with his fingers through the smooth fabric but soon circling around it, bunching the silk like a ruffle more beautiful than on Aziraphale’s favourite clothes, he was overcome with something closely related to his love for Crowley but entirely more physical. Desire moved through his body with such force he could swear he felt it even in the tips of his wings. But he had to reign himself in for now. There was a lot more that he hoped to see this evening and it wouldn’t do to act impulsively.

Crowley meanwhile got really started, moving his body sinuously into his cupped hand with an effortless sort of grace that no human body could ever have while doing this. He closed his eyes, a shaky moan escaping his lips. His other hand was sneaking underneath his top, running over the hard, flat planes of his chest, teasing his nipples. He moaned again, louder this time, eyes opening to fix on Aziraphale’s face. Half-lidded, beautiful and teasing. He was putting on a performance for the angel. While that was enjoyable, and certainly something the angel loved to see, Aziraphale’s plans for the evening hadn’t involved Crowley having capacity for enough coherent thought to to care about how he looked. 

So, he decided to be just a bit of a bastard. True, Crowley had demanded mostly his eyes, to be watched from every angle, Aziraphale seeing as much of him as possible. Aziraphale telling him what to do and enjoying the view when his demon indulged him. However, he surely never agreed to watch him _silently._

“My dear, you are a sight to behold,” the angel complimented him.

Crowley’s laboured breath stuttered in response.

“I always enjoyed watching you, to tell the truth. And I especially love to do so when you are in the throes of passion. The way your body moves so graciously. The way your muscles tremble when you can barely hold yourself together anymore.”

“Angel,” Crowley whimpered and bit his lip, eyes glazing over.

“Oh, my love, I especially love seeing you like this. Do you even know what it does to me, seeing you so close to undone? Seeing you try to contain the beautiful sounds you are making, to know that you are like this because of me? Truly, there is nothing more enticing than you right before orgasm. It makes me want to keep you there for hours, maybe even days, and still it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy me completely.”

“Aziraphale, I,” Crowley moaned.

“The only thing that can console me if I loose it, is you in the bliss of ecstasy. Do you think you can do that for me, dear boy? Would you please come for me?”

Crowley’s eyes widened as his orgasm hit. As if he was surprised that his body did what he had always done -anything to please Aziraphale. After 6000 years it seemed ingrained into the very core of his being. If he had to have any kind of power over anyone, the angel thought, this was the only he would ever accept. He could trust himself to always use this power well. After all, he was nothing if not protective of Crowley.

The angel stood up and moved towards the bed as Crowley panted, gently kissing him while he was coming down from his high. It was a bit awkward with so many more perspectives than usual, the movement and closeness of Crowley’s face making him a bit dizzy. He loved every part of his beloved demon but a close-up view up his nose was not exactly something he had been missing during a kiss.

“That was spectacular, my dear,” Aziraphale murmured as he parted their kiss. 

“Do you need a break before we continue? Or anything else?”

Crowley, slowly coming down, shook his head.

“Help me undress, angel? My legs feel a bit like jelly.”

“Of course. Just give me a few shakes,” the angel answered.  
He backed off a bit, folded his hands and closed his eyes in concentration. When he opened them again, two eyes less were looking at Crowley – the ones that had previously been located on his palms now gone again.

“I hope you don’t mind two less, dear boy. Only fabric on eyeballs is certainly not the most erotic feeling, even if it doesn’t really touch them, and I do have an inkling that I shall need to ball them up to keep myself from going off the plan anyway.”

Crowley snorted.

“S’ alright,” he slurred, a grin tugging at his mouth. “As long as the rest of them is on me.”

“Always, my dear.”

Aziraphale kissed him again, sliding his hands down the demon’s body. Wrapping one arm around his hips, he picked the demon up as if he weighed not much more than one of the throw pillows and started to pull down his trousers. He heard his breath hitching and placed a kiss onto his clavicle in response, before setting him down again.

“If you would lean back a bit and stretch your legs forward, there’s a dear.”

With another quick tug, Crowley was bared to him as much as he could be without shucking off his corporation. Aziraphale took a second to appreciate the sight of him. His flush was almost indiscernible now but an almost was nothing to ethereal sight. He could still see it, going all the way down to Crowley’s narrow hips, even spreading a bit onto his thighs, where his muscles were still quivering slightly, another detail the angel would have missed without his full sight. What he would have seen, even with only one open eye was the smear of fluid on those thighs, a slightly sticky mess on and surrounding the demon’s flushed cock. 

He could see said cock taking an interest in being observed, the veins moving slightly with the elevated pulse, filling it until it was erect again. He licked his lips, unconsciously.

“Like what you see, angel?” Crowley smirked, bringing him back into the moment.

“Of course, love,” the angel answered, smug when he saw Crowley swallow heavily. “I was wondering if I shall clean you off before the next round, or if you’d prefer to stay a mess?”

Crowley seemed to give this question some serious consideration.

Finally he flopped back into the pillows dramatically, one of his hands nearly hitting the headboard in a wide gesture.

“Mnh, just leave it. You like it, and with what I know of your appetites I don’t think I can handle what you have planned and a cleaning after each thing. But you owe me for after.”

“Very agreeable, dearest. Only I fear I will not be inspecting your cleanliness as thoroughly. No miracle can keep soap out.”

Crowley snorted, slightly lifting his head to shoot Aziraphale a look.

“Course, angel. Whatever you want.”

“On that note – would you mind laying back again and spreading your legs for me? There’s a dear.” 

Aziraphale took a moment to just look at Crowley’s nude body. Then, when he noticed the quivering of his muscles and his heavy breath picking up speed, he waited some more. 

“Angeeeel,” Crowley whined.

“Yes?” Aziraphale replied in the most innocent “I have no idea what you mean, dearest” tone he could muster.

“BastaAAAAAAArd,” Crowley pressed out, voice rising in pitch as the angel gently ran a single finger up his cock. 

His body responded beautifully to stimulation, Aziraphale had always noticed. And he planned to take full advantage of his full sight for now. His hands moved slowly, methodically exploring Crowley as if he had never done so before. And, in a way that was the case. 

Had he ever truly noticed the fine hair on the slight roundness that marked Crowley’s stomach before? They were delicate and red and so barely there it was hard to even feel them, but they gave his skin an exquisite sheen.

Had he ever noticed the intricate pattern of tiny scales on Crowley’s scaled feet, and how they shifted when Crowley moved them? Curled up his toes?

Had he ever noticed how much Crowley’s breath truly changed as he got aroused, how his ribs moved just slightly out of sync, always one higher than the others, like a piano playing a melody of his desire?

All of these impossibly beautiful details now stood out to him as clear as day and he couldn’t get enough of them. Crowley was captivating. His beloved, truly a sight to behold. 

And even more so as Aziraphale brought him to the brink again. All the little movements, the shivers, the wiggling, the widening eyes, Aziraphale drank it all in. Truly, this should be enough to sate him, all of these beautiful details, but instead he wanted more. This wasn’t greed, of course not, he was an angel after all, but it was as close to greed as his love for human food was to gluttony. A hunger that twisted his insides and demanded to be sated. A desire to truly see everything of Crowley.

He cradled the boneless heap of blissed out demon against him, not able to convey the depth of his feelings with words, quite aware of the irony of it. Crowley groaned weakly against him, and Aziraphale blinked. 

“Are you quite alright, love?” he asked, studying Crowley’s face, which was quite slack.

“Terriffic ‘ngel,” Crowley slurred. “That was. Quite.”

Only then did the angel notice a detail that was not Crowley. The clock was showing- oh dear.

“Oh dear me, I apologize. It seems I have gotten quite distracted by watching you, haven’t I?”

At that Crowley cracked open his eyes.

“What do you – Oh angel, you really didn’t mean to, did you? Oh someone you- you treated me like one of your books!” he laughed, voice hoarse.

“Well obviously! Quit sniggering you serpent!” Aziraphale huffed. “And to think I had so much more planned,” he added with a sigh.

“Oh, quit your fretting. I can assure you it was quite fantastic. And I think I’m still good for one more round, so just pick one and we’ll pick up the slack some other time.”

“Well, as long as you enjoyed it,” Aziraphale harrumped, but his expression softened at the immediate worry flitting over Crowley’s face. 

“You didn’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Aziraphale’s voice softened. “I enjoyed myself rather too much, I think. Do you really want to keep going? You look quite tired.”

“Yeaaah,” Crowley drawled with a flush and an insufferable grin. “You see, all this handsiness and the, I think it was about five, almost orgasms gave me a craving for something a bit more substantial and fulfilling, so if you’d please put your dick in me that would be great.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed, partly ruffled, flustered and not at all opposed.

The demon snorted.

“Worth it for seeing that look.”

Aziraphale decided this was enough of that smugness again and kissed the demon quite thoroughly while ridding himself of his bow tie. He took a step back and proudly observed the mess he had once again made of his demon. Time to mess some more.

“If you would please help me out of my trousers?”

Immediately Crowley was on him, enthusiastically moving to loosen belt and fabric and stroking along his length through his pants, while Aziraphale removed his waistcoat and shirt. He hadn’t told him to do that, but since they hadn’t arranged for controlling today he could overlook it. Only now, under Crowley’s hands, he noticed how long it truly had been – and how long he had neglected himself. He was straining against his pants, almost uncomfortably hard. 

Crowley removed the pants entirely and then… stopped. Aziraphale could see the muscles around his mouth twitch into a miniscule grin as he was considering what to say.

“Don’t you dare,” he began, but Crowley was already full on laughing. 

Aziraphale pouted. 

“You wanted me to get out all of them!”

“I know, angel, I know. Just, it looks like a face! With a dick nose, you know like those ridiculous glasses.” Crowley stopped talking, took another good look and started laughing again. 

“Now, really,” Aziraphale said, tone cross. 

He could see (well not literally in this case, the angle was just wrong for that) the humour of the situation, but they had been rather in the middle of something that he would have liked to continue. He pouted again as another wave of laughter ripped through Crowley.

“Oh, fuck, they are looking all pouty too. Ah, come on, angel, please, I just didn’t expect it. Wait-” Crowley pulled a mirror out of the air (or rather made one into being) and held it just below the angel’s penis, angled so Aziraphale could see it what he saw.

The angel snorted.

“You are right, it does a bit like a face.”

Crowley grinned up at him, delighted, and Aziraphale couldn’t be the least bit cross with him anymore. This was the first time he saw one of Crowley’s unrestricted smiles, the smiles he got when they laughed about something together, with all of his eyes. And it was breathtaking. A great wash of emotion came over him, affection and fondness and thankfulness and love, mixing into something that no words could ever describe accurately. He barely even noticed dropping to his knees and cradling Crowley’s face, bringing it to his, and then he was kissing him, soft and sweet and overwhelmingly tender. An ache in his chest, to convey what he was feeling to Crowley. The need for them to be joined, together forever. The need to give Crowley everything, everything he had to offer and anything Crowley desired.

Crowley was shaking in his arms, reciprocating the kiss with just as much feeling. They shared this, they shared this feeling with each other, fully and truly and on every level. 

Slowly, carefully, Aziraphale drew back.

For a moment they just looked at each other. Saw each other.  
Then Aziraphale moved forward, gently hugging Crowley to himself, resting his head on the other’s shoulder and covering the both of them with his wings as best as he could.

“You, my dear, are the most stunning thing I have ever seen in all of creation,” he whispered into Crowley’s neck. 

There were many more words that could give a glimpse of how beautiful and wonderful he found Crowley to be, but stunning was one of the most fitting, simply because he looked at Crowley and was too stunned to think of them.

Crowley in response just pressed himself closer to Aziraphale, still slightly shaking from the sudden onslaught of emotions.

“I am sorry, love, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. Do you want to lie down and cuddle a bit?”

Even though he couldn’t read Crowley’s expression, tightly pressed against his neck as his face was, he could feel the almost imperceivable nod against his neck. He picked the other up and awkwardly shuffled them both onto the bed and into a lying position, folding one of his wings out of the way. 

He was surprised when Crowley squirmed in his hold, until his back was flush to Aziraphale.

“I. I need to calm down a bit. Can you just hold me for a while?” Crowley admitted, voice barely there.

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

Aziraphale’s body was still mostly aroused, but that wasn’t important. What mattered most to him, as it always had, was Crowley. Them, together, no matter what they were doing. And he loved being allowed to take care of the other.

He gently moved one arm between Crowley and the mattress until he could hug Crowley closer to him, his outstretched wings enfolding them once again. His other hand softly smoothed along Crowley’s back and sides, slow, gentle, repetitive movements to calm him down, to show that Aziraphale was there. Until Crowley started to relax into him, muscle after muscle going from tensed to lax. Aziraphale kissed his neck.

“Better?”

“Mmh. Much. What brought that on, earlier?”

Aziraphale laughed gently.

“I’ve never seen you laugh like that before, not in its entirety. And I just couldn’t help myself. All the smallest details I’d never noticed, I was enamoured with them. Enamoured with you.”

Crowley hummed.

“S’ that so?”

“Yes it is. Did you know you have the smallest dimple on your left cheek when you laugh?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do! It’s about as deep as papyrus is thick, and impossibly charming. And the creases around your eyes look like a bouquet.”

“Oh, now you’re having me on. That’s just crow’s feet.”

Aziraphale tightened his hold and placed a gentle kiss on the nape of Crowley’s neck.

“They do. They connect to that faint splattering of freckles you have, and that is the blooms. I always thought your chosen name really fit you, and this is just one more proof for that. Anthony, anthos, my beautiful flower.”

Aziraphale could see the blush deepening on Crowley’s face and chest. 

“Nnnh.”

Aziraphale laughed softly and placed another kiss on Crowley’s neck, right at the slope of his shoulder.

“No use in protesting. I know what I see. This many eyes can’t deceive, and they all see you are the most sublime creature. And you also have another dimple over your tush.”

“Angel!” the demon shouted, scandalized.

The angel laughed again.

“You do, and it’s adorable. I’ve been wanting to kiss it since I discovered it. Mark it as mine,” he teased.

The demon squirmed in his hold, and Aziraphale saw that flush spreading further, and where all that blood moved to.

“Do you want me to stop, love?” he asked, gently.

“Nh, why?”

“Crowley, I still have all of my eyes on you, and I couldn’t help but notice your reactions. And while it delights me, it was an eventful evening already. I wouldn’t want it to be overwhelming.”

The demon was quiet for a moment, his face going through a great mix of emotions, landing on a soft smile. His cock, meanwhile, filled only further.

“Nah, angel. Not too much. Still fond of the original plan.”

“My dear, we have strayed from that about as far as Alpha Centauri. But luckily I do know which alternate original plan you mean,” Aziraphale said and brought their bodies flush from the chest downwards, slightly grinding into Crowley into the process. “Correct?”

He took great pleasure in watching Crowley’s eyes glaze over, the way his mouth slackened and opened just a bit, lips forming a small “oh”.

“Right,” the demon confirmed, voice slightly strained, just like his cock.

“And, do correct me if I’m wrong, but I suspect you are already fairly ready for me after out earlier activities, aren’t you?”

Crowley drew in a sharp breath when Aziraphale’s free hand moved to his arse, kneading one of the cheeks and thumbing the fluttering ring of muscle.

“Fuck, angel.”

“Is that an affirmation, or simply a statement of what you want me to do to you?” the angel teased, impossibly fond of the way Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Both, actually.”

“Well then, don’t mind if I take you up on that. Or rather make you take me up on that,” Aziraphale said, delighting in the small laugh, disguised as a huff of impatience.

He didn’t dither any further, using a small miracle to spread some lube on his fingers and slowly working his thumb in. 

He cradled Crowley closer to his chest again when his back arched at the intrusion.

“Stay close to me, love. How else am I supposed to whisper sweet nothings and dirty things into your skin?”

“Ooooooh, dirty things?” Crowley purred, working himself back a bit on Aziraphale’s thumb, impatiently.

“Like how pretty your nipples are when they harden,” Aziraphale whispered, sending goosebumps over Crowley’s skin. “They start off soft and pink, but when you get aroused enough for them to harden they turn this delicious reddish colour, just like the inside of your lips. Really, it’s no wonder I’m always tempted to put my mouth on them. And it’s always so rewarding to do so, you moan my name so lovely.”

“Angel,” the demon moaned.

Aziraphale hummed. 

“Yes, I like that one too, dear. And when I did it earlier I noticed it also gives you the faintest hint of goosebumps, it makes the hair around them stand up. Like a crown. Just like they are doing now.”

The demon’s cock twitched at the reminder that Aziraphale was still watching him, and the angel couldn’t help but seek out that spot inside him, lovingly grazing it with his thumb, to get a repeat performance. The other gasped, and then moaned lowly as the thumb was slowly drawn out, only to be replaced by a lubed up cock. He rocked into Crowley, inside him, in a pace that was gentle and unhurried and he knew to drive the demon mad. And sure enough, soon he saw the demon’s lips twitch impatiently, so he moved his hand to hold his hips still, just before the other tried to rock into him.

“Aziraphale,” the demon said in a tone that he would probably insist was not whining.

“Something the matter, my love? You did want me to cherish you thoroughly, if I remember correctly?”

“Yeah, well, I also wanted to come this century.”

“Hmm, to keep you right here for that long, what a thought.” The demon’s breath hitched and Aziraphale marked this thought down as something to revisit later. “Really now, my dear, you know I do like to take my time indulging in the finer things of life, and you certainly are amongst them.”

The demon convulsed, trying to hide his face in the pillows this time, but Aziraphale’s hold didn’t let him turn enough.

“Have I told you before how lovely a blush suits you?” Aziraphale asked, tone deliberately casual. 

“Nh, yes, only about a hundred times.”

“Well that doesn’t seem like nearly enough. It really is gorgeous on you, love. Not just the colour, which contrasts so nicely with your hair and brings out your eyes. The whole process is rather lovely. Your blushing always starts with your eyes widening just a fraction, and your mouth going slack and loosing some of that frown you insist on putting on so often. And then the colour starts spreading, from your cheeks over your nose and up to even the tips of your ears. Really I do have a hard time resisting the urge to kiss you every time.”

Crowley shuddered in his arms, blush spreading ever further.

“It also makes your chest hair stand out wonderfully,” Aziraphale continued, running a hand through the aforementioned chest hair, making sure his hand caught and tugged just slightly, the way he knew Crowley liked.

He was rewarded with Crowley arching back into him, both of them moaning as Aziraphale was driven even deeper. Crowley’s breath hitched, entire body shaking from quivering muscles.

“Angel,” he moaned, voice broken.

Aziraphale tightened his embrace and nuzzled Crowley’s neck.

“You know, my dear, being with you like this makes me wish to have finer hearing as well. Though I suppose I would not be able to hold myself together then, the sounds you make are so very beddable.”

Crowley’s breath hitched again, though this time it was half from laughter.

“Beddable, angel, really?”

Aziraphale huffed playfully.

“A perfectly respectable word!”

“Yeah, maybe last century. This century has other words, like bootylicious.”

Aziraphale hid his laughter in Crowley’s neck, but soon enough they were both snickering. That is, until it shook Aziraphale enough to drive him up into Crowley again, hitting his prostate spot on. Crowley jerked, laughter dying as he bit his lips, eyes glazing over. Aziraphale repeated the movement, and made Crowley release a shaky breath.

“Aziraphale, prithee…”

The angel blushed at the word choice. 

“Of course, dear. Enough with the teasing.”

Of course, the angel knew exactly how to efficiently make Crowley into a mess. He had done so before many times. Sometimes they even timed who could do it faster. So he used his knowledge, bottoming out deep with every thrust, angling it perfectly to graze over that spot inside, fast and hard going in, and a bit gentler going out, just like always. What he hadn’t been prepared for, however was the intensity of Crowley’s reaction. Or, well, the intensity of seeing all of Crowley’s reaction.

There were goosebumps breaking out all over his body, flush spreading further still, tapering out to only the faintest hint of redness. Muscles were quivering, uncontrolled, as if Crowley’s body couldn’t decide how to move. His toes were curling, his lip reddening and pulsing slightly where Crowley kept biting it to muffle his sounds. His eyes were glazed over, eyelids fluttering, and he was breathing irregular and hard. And with every thrust of Aziraphale inside him, it all became more. He was just so beautifully responsive, an incredibly arousing piece of participatory art. Aziraphale was impossibly glad Crowley had suggested this.

His own orgasm took him almost by surprise, and he pulled their bodies as close to each other as possible, until they were almost one. Crowley gasped and shook in his arms, him too sent over the edge, and Aziraphale couldn’t take a single one of his eyes off him, even the ones he had sent away opening back up. He felt dizzy, and took a deep breath upon realizing he had stopped breathing for a good while. Crowley still trembled in his arms, so he kissed his neck again.

“That,” Aziraphale whispered. “That was marvellous. Extraordinary. Awe-inspiring.” 

Crowley snickered.

“Eye-opening?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but join his laughter.

“In every sense of the word, yes.”

He heard Crowley softly inhale in answer and kissed his shoulder.

“Clean up hands-off or hands-on?” Aziraphale asked as he slowly slid out of Crowley, the other shortly hissing in oversensitive displeasure. 

Aziraphale knew what the answer would be most likely, but he didn’t like to assume. They hadn’t talked openly for so long, he sometimes felt that they had to practice. And he had found that Crowley liked being asked about things.

“Off.” Crowley winced. “Love the hands-on and all, but everything’s a bit sensitive.”

“Of course. Do you need me to heal or desensitize anything?”

Crowley’s face was considering. 

“Mhh, maybe my nipples. Else if Shadwell asks tomorrow I might as well answer two but feels like two hundred.”

Aziraphale snorted again, and then kissed Crowley’s neck, snapping his finger to do just that. With both of them clean, he moved onto his back, opening his arms wide for Crowley to cuddle up to his chest, their preferred position for afterwards. Crowley liked to hold him and listen to his heartbeat, even though it was much too slow for a human. And Aziraphale liked being mostly propped up by the pillows.

Just as predicted, the demon went right into his arms, face relaxing immediately. Aziraphale allowed himself to take him in fully for one more moment, beautiful in post-coital glow and relaxed features, before sending his eyes away. It had become a bit of a strain to keep them seeing on this plane of existence for so long. He sighed contentedly as he too relaxed into the pillows.

“A wonderful idea, love. Thank you again for proposing it,” he said, closing his arms around Crowley and leaning forward place a kiss on his hairline.

“Thank you for indulging,” Crowley yawned.

“Indulging you? Always. Comments on the experience?”

Crowley hummed.

“The thing where you just lost yourself completely in me and made me cum a bunch was not in the script, but was pretty amazing. Would like a repeat performance, though with a warning. And maybe a do over of the original script you had planned. Else… nothing much. Except-” Aziraphale felt the telltale twitch of Crowley in his arms that meant Crowley found himself hilarious enough to actually laugh. “- ah, nothing. Forget it, angel.”

Aziraphale heaved out a heavy, dramatic sigh.

“Come on, let’s hear it.”

He felt Crowley’s lips twitch against where he was buried against his chest.

“S’ just. The ones on your bollocks. With those you’d get the perspective of a first person shooter.”

For a second Aziraphale wished he still was technically inept enough to not understand this heinous joke. But alas, knowing a group of teenagers had robbed him of all technical innocence.

“And it really did look like a face. Especially at first-” Here Crowley made a pause that Aziraphale assumed was for the enhancement of his comedic performance. “ _-glans._ I mean you really got the _look._ ”

Aziraphale answered with silence that pointedly conveyed the aura of “Are you quite done yet?”.

“Alright, alright, just one more,” Crowley conceded. “No idea how to work it in anyway, but you truly are the apple of my eye.”

Aziraphale tightened his arms around the demon.

“And you are, somehow, the love of my eternal life. And an absolutely terrible comedian.”

Crowley snorted against his chest.

“Quite sure the word you mean is ‘terrific’, angel.”

“I can assure you, it is not,” Aziraphale said flatly. “And anywho, everyone knows jokes about eyes are just optical allusions.”

His own lips twitched as Crowley shook against him, and soon enough they were laughing together once more. Crowley moved up on his chest for them to kiss, sweet and light, kiss after kiss until they broke apart once more.

“One thing’s for sure, you’d make a much better comedian than magician.”

Aziraphale grinned.

“Oh, no dear. That is your thing to be embarrassing at. I wouldn’t dream to take it from you.”

“Well, as long as you’ll be my audience.”

Aziraphale pulled him into a kiss again, earnest and soft.

“For as long as you want me to. No matter for what, I’ll be right with you and watch you.”

Crowley blushed and buried his face in Aziraphale’s chest again, hugging him closer possessively.

“Always. Me too.”

Aziraphale hummed and carded his hand into Crowley’s hair, softly petting him.

“I know, my darling. I know.”

When no further answer came, he simply kept petting until Crowley’s breath evened out and slowed, and the demon relaxed in his hold, finally asleep. Only then Aziraphale allowed himself to sit up a bit and summon a book to pass the time. But he kept petting Crowley’s hair until morning.

**Author's Note:**

>  **1** Crowley secretly liked them because they felt like a nest around him. Aziraphale liked them for proper back support while reading in bed. [return to text]
> 
>  **2** It said pearls. The joke wasn’t lost on Aziraphale but he decided not to mention it right now. It would, however, be used in future bickering. [return to text]
> 
>  **3** Not literally, of course. Aziraphale would have been quite put out by the stained sheets. [return to text]
> 
>  **4** Coincidentally, the one that had a beautifully embroidered “FUCK” on it. [return to text]
> 
> Feel free to tell me about spelling errors, grammar errors and britpick. 
> 
> Come visit my tumblr at [goodduckingomens](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/goodduckingomens).  
> Comments and Kudos very much motivate me, so please leave some if you had fun! Keysmash comments appreaciated for the true Crowleys out there.


End file.
